


in between

by realdefonge



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, M/M, Romance, Tragedy, another attempt to write angst, hintayan ng langit/hotel del luna/along with the gods au, ongniel are exes, seongwu is married and has a son and grandkids, some bits of fluff if you squint, this fic is self indulgent so it might be messy, unnamed wife and son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realdefonge/pseuds/realdefonge
Summary: Seongwu and Daniel are exes who have never seen each other again after their breakup. Decades later, they get reunited in the afterlife, where they get the chance to possibly mend old wounds.
Relationships: Kang Daniel/Ong Seongwu
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47





	1. an unlikely reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seongwu finds himself in the afterlife after succumbing to his disease. He's pretty much chill about it, until he finds out that the afterlife has overcrowding problems and that he has to share a room with an old flame.

Seongwu awakened to the noise and vibrations produced by the railway tracks. He opened his eyes and found himself inside a subway train or, at the very least, that’s what it seemed like. There were a few passengers with him, all of them wearing the same, glazed expressions on their faces. He probably looked the same. 

Although still a bit dazed, Seongwu knew he wasn’t taking the usual subway ride on his way to work, or on his way home, for that matter. There’s no way of knowing where they’re heading to, or whether it’s night or day, because there are no windows to indicate such things. 

Despite the silence, the atmosphere inside the train wasn’t eerie. The atmosphere was serene, that even the train’s reverberation felt calming. 

Seongwu examined his hands and quickly noticed the lack of wrinkles. He brought those hands up to his face and realized there were no wrinkles there, too. He found it odd, but he didn’t question it any further.

Because just a few moments ago, the 65-year-old Ong Seongwu succumbed to his decade-long disease and took his last breath. 

And now he’s on his way to the afterlife.

* * *

“Ong Seongwu, male, 65, died of leukemia, left behind a son and two grandchildren, wife passed away 20 years before him, ran a publishing company until his retirement at the age of 53, after which his only son took over...”

Seongwu looked around the place as the lady in the checkpoint booth assigned to him continued to summarize his whole life in such a passive way that Seongwu began to wonder if she’s really supposed to be a clerk of the afterlife. 

The place looked like a hotel, only bigger than the biggest hotel he had ever been to in his time as a living, human being. _Way_ bigger. He looked up and noticed the ceiling was too high up, at least 500 meters or higher. The floor, walls, pillars—almost everything was painted white, although he could still spot a variety of colors beyond the reception area, which is where he’s currently at. 

There were at least a hundred booths lined up, each with a clerk behind the counters. Every five minutes or so, a train would arrive to bring at least ten passengers, and they’d get ushered to an unoccupied booth where they’d wait for their assessment. 

_Are clerks supposed to sound this lethargic? But am I allowed to question how things are? I feel bored. Am I allowed to feel bored? I thought the afterlife would give you a clear mind and you wouldn’t think or feel anything else aside from inner peace or something like that._

Seongwu felt the clerk’s eyes on him, so he cleared his throat and looked back at her. She adjusted her glasses before scribbling on what seemed to be Seongwu’s file.

“This isn’t exactly the afterlife, Mr. Ong. It’s the _in-between_. This is where souls reside for 49 days before they get sent to their destinations, which would either be reincarnation or eternal damnation.”

Seongwu leaned forward, intrigued at the clerk’s sudden explanation, and at the fact that she most likely had just read his mind. “So like, _bardo_ , in Buddhism?”

The clerk shrugged. “Bardo, astral plane, purgatory, call it whatever. It’s the same.” She scribbled a few more times before making a call through the vintage-looking telephone on her desk. “Hello. Passenger no. 19950825 is done with his posthumous assessment. Yes, please lead him to his quarters now. Thank you.”

“Wait, so in this place, I still have my consciousness and personality intact? Won’t it affect my 49-day evaluation? What if I get sent to eternal damnation for this?” Seongwu sent a barrage of questions to the clerk who could only massage her temples. “I can be a bit blunt, you know. But I’m a good person, I swear. Oh, and why am I back to my young and handsome self?”

“Please step aside and proceed to the lounge while waiting for your guide,” the clerk instructed through clenched teeth. She closed Seongwu’s file and handed it to him before looking at the person behind. “Next, please.”

* * *

“Oh, you want to know why you’re young again? That’s because here, your physical form reverts to the time when you were living life to the fullest. Just imagine the most glorious years of your life, or that time when you were at your happiest. Your body goes back to that time. You could either go back to your physical body as a child, a teen, an adult, or even your form before your death.”

Seongwu’s guide, Jaehwan, was more indulgent than the clerk when it came to answering his questions, which Seongwu was thankful for. But it only took ten minutes for Seongwu to wish for Jaehwan to zip his mouth, because he’s too chatty for his own good. 

“Also, don’t worry about residing with, you know, criminals, of that sort. They’re in an entirely different building and they receive a different kind of assessment. But some souls reveal their true, evil nature here once realizing they’re in the afterlife, so they end up causing trouble. You should watch out for incidents like that during your stay here,”

Jaehwan led him inside an elevator as he continued explaining the in-between to him. Seongwu already got the gist of it—some of it, at least. It was still difficult for him to process the situation so it’d probably take some time to completely digest every detail. 

“We’re facing some overcrowding problems right now, which is kinda funny, ‘cause this is the afterlife, right? You’d think the Higher Ups would automatically expand this place or something, but nah,” Jaehwan sighed. “We’re left to deal with this problem ourselves by restructuring the quarters and rooming a few souls with each other instead of giving them the private, personal space that most of them desire.”

Seongwu halted. “Wait… _Higher Ups?_ Would that be _God?”_

“Depends on your beliefs,” Jaehwan answered with a shrug. “Anyway, things are a bit systematic here, but it’s pretty much the same as the land of the living, minus the living part, of course.”

“Well, _duh,”_ Seongwu chuckled dryly. The elevator came to a stop on the 152nd floor, and Jaehwan stepped out, with Seongwu following closely behind. “And here I thought I’d be able to rest in peace, but I guess I still have 49 days to go over my uneventful life.”

Jaehwan smirked at him. “Was it really uneventful?”

Seongwu raised an eyebrow at him, then he gasped upon realizing why Jaehwan asked that question. “Did you peek at my files or something?”

His guide just shrugged. “It’s not like you have anything to hide. You’re dead.” They arrived at a hallway comprised of dozens of rooms adjacent each other. A few souls were chatting along as they walked past them. The place really looked like a regular hotel, if you don’t think about the fact that it’s the afterlife. “How was your trip along the _Sanzu River,_ by the way?”

“You mean the train ride? So we were actually passing along the Sanzu River during that time? I heard from some tales that we were supposed to walk along a bridge as we cross the river.”

Jaehwan laughed. “What, you think this is the _Joseon_ Era? Dude, even the Higher Ups know how to keep up with the latest trends, you know.”

“This is definitely not how I expected this place to be,” Seongwu muttered. He still had a lot of questions to ask, but he figured it would only confuse him more so he decided to just go along with everything. 

Jaehwan stopped in front of one of the rooms, took out a keycard from his pocket, and unlocked the door with it.

_They even use RFID cards here instead of the traditional keys. I guess the Gods really do keep up with the changing times._

Jaehwan had already opened the door halfway when he suddenly turned to look back at Seongwu. “As I've said before, we’re undergoing some major renovations so you’ll be roomed with another soul. Could be someone who recently passed away, or one of the workers around here. Anyway, please do try to get along.”

“Or we could just ignore each other and stay off of each other’s businesses during my time here,” Seongwu suggested nonchalantly. He’s not really a sociable person, but he wouldn’t mind having a roommate as long as they respect his personal space. 

The way Jaehwan pursed his lips together, like he wanted to say something but decided to withhold it, made Seongwu uneasy for some reason. As he followed Jaehwan inside the room, he couldn’t help but ask, “Why? Do you know who my roommate is?”

But Jaehwan didn’t have to answer, because right there, in the middle of the living room, is a familiar figure sitting on the couch, reading a book which covered his face, although the book did nothing to conceal his identity, because Seongwu recognized him right away. 

He placed the book down, confirming Seongwu’s suspicions. His roommate didn’t look the least bit surprised, like he was actually expecting Seongwu to arrive. He stood up and walked towards Seongwu, his steps light and confident; his smile bright and unreserved— reminding Seongwu of the first time they’ve met, which was also the first time he has ever fallen for someone just from a simple smile. 

He looked exactly the same as he did when Seongwu last saw him, which was roughly forty years ago. Just when Seongwu thought he had already forgotten that face, there he was, with his bunny teeth in full view as he grinned, his puppy eyes focused on him, as he stepped closer without reservations. 

“Kang Daniel…”

As soon as he uttered that name for the first time in decades, Seongwu was instantly flooded with memories and feelings that were supposed to be long-forgotten.

Isn’t it ironic how those memories are coming back to life now that he’s dead? And is it normal for his heart to still thump like that, despite being dead? 

Seongwu clutched his chest as he blinked at Daniel, whose eyes never left his even for a second. 

He didn’t even notice that Jaehwan had already left the room. He doesn’t even know if the guide said anything before leaving. The voice in his head was too loud for him to hear anything else. 

“You’re finally here, Ong Seongwu,” Daniel began, but his eyes immediately widened as he waved his hands in front of Seongwu. “Ah! That was an inconsiderate thing to say! I mean, I’m sorry that you died. I’ve been through that, and it wasn’t a fun experience at all.”

Even though he’s still perplexed, Seongwu couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at Daniel’s remark. “You still spout the most random things,”

Daniel’s face froze, looking as if he had stopped breathing. A blush slowly began to spread across his cheeks, which Daniel quickly covered with his hands. “And you still have the most breathtaking smile,” he managed to say despite his flustered state. 

It was Seongwu’s turn to blush at that. It was weird to feel like a shy teenager again even though he’s technically in his 60s. Daniel still acted like the same old Daniel in his youthful days, like the one in his memories before they broke up. 

Seongwu vowed to never think about Daniel again after their ending their relationship, but now that he has appeared in front of him again, Seongwu began to wonder: what has Daniel been up to after they parted? Did he achieve his dreams of becoming a pianist? Did he get a family of his own, like Seongwu?

He never heard from Daniel again after their breakup, although he did hear some rumors that after pursuing his craft in a different country, Daniel decided to settle down for good in that place. Still, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter; that Daniel had nothing to do with him anymore. That from then on, they should just forget each other and live their own lives. 

“Don’t say something like that so casually,” Seongwu spoke after a while, his voice low and his face painted with a hint of irritation. “We’re practically strangers,”

Daniel fell quiet, then his eyes softened as he smiled. Seongwu had to look away because the expression on Daniel’s face made his heart ache. 

“I’m sorry, Seongwu. For a lot of things. There’s a lot that I want to say, but an apology comes first.”

Seongwu clenched his fists as his mind whirred with questions. One part of him wants to demand Daniel to enumerate the things he’s sorry for, but the other part doesn’t want to know, fearing that old scars will be reopened. 

“Don’t,” Seongwu huffed out. He forced out a grin as he finally looked back at Daniel. “It’s been ages already. Let’s not dwell on the past anymore. I want my stay here to be as peaceful as possible, so let’s just chill and get along, okay?”

As petty as it seemed, Seongwu felt that he’d only lose if he made it obvious that his past with Daniel still affected him. So instead of acting on his harbored ill feelings, he thought it would be better to just treat Daniel as an old friend whom he hasn’t seen in a while. 

Seongwu knew that it would only backfire later, but pretending is better than confronting the situation at hand. 

At least, that’s what he thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand that's it for the opening chapter! most of the afterlife's system was taken from hotel del luna and hintayan ng langit (heaven's waiting) but I added a few things for plot purposes. I'm almost done with this fic, but I figured it would be better to divide it into 4 chapters, so rest assured that I will finish it :)


	2. sentimental waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seongwu recollects a few memories while listening to Daniel's piano performance. As he learns more about the soul guides, he also hears about a certain person who had traversed the afterlife many years ago.

Seongwu couldn’t even take another bite of the steak, his hand just mindlessly holding on to the fork with the piece of meat in it. 

It’s not that he didn’t have an appetite, or that the food tasted awful. His taste buds were still present in the afterlife and, according to Daniel, even though one’s soul wouldn’t starve to death (which was quite obvious seeing as they’re already dead), it would still feel the hunger or desire for food, like a normal, living human. 

It’s the same for one’s other humane desires. The _in-between_ serves as a pit stop before your final destination, and it will provide you with all the commodities necessary to give you a relaxing stay. 

And that’s what the restaurant, where Seongwu’s currently having his dinner at, is for. It’s one of the many amenities in the in-between which, overall, looks like a luxurious hotel that you can stay at for free. He thought it would be nice if he could bring his grandchildren there, but he immediately hated himself for that thought because his little brats still need to live for many more years. 

The steak he ordered was probably the best steak he’s ever had, probably worthy of Gordon Ramsay’s approval, but he was only able to take one bite of it when he heard a familiar tune coming from the corner of the restaurant where a grand piano rested atop a platform. 

Daniel told him earlier that he had to go to his part-time job, but Seongwu didn’t expect the said job to be _that,_ even though it did suit Daniel. 

And thus, Seongwu got too distracted to continue eating his steak. 

Just like how it’s been in the past, Seongwu wasn’t able to see nor hear anything other than Daniel and the enchanting sounds he produced with the piano. 

Of all the piano pieces in existence, Daniel chose to play Tchaikovsky’s _Valse Sentimentale Op.51 No.6,_ which happens to be Seongwu’s favorite piece. 

Seongwu didn’t know much about classical music, but he always listened to Daniel’s playing with much enthusiasm. After hearing him play _Valse Sentimentale,_ it became a habit of Seongwu’s to request for that piece every time Daniel was behind the piano. 

All of a sudden, a particular memory, which Seongwu thought had already been washed away by time, replayed on his mind like a scene from a movie. 

It was during their university festival in college. The festival ended with a dinner party and, at one point, a few sappy, romantic songs filled the air. Some students grabbed that chance to invite their crushes for a slow dance, which led to a confession of feelings. 

Daniel and Seongwu laughed in the corner as they suddenly got surrounded by soon-to-be couples. 

Although it made them cringe, the atmosphere wasn’t so bad. Seongwu was looking at the students with endearment when Daniel suddenly took his hand and dragged him to an empty music room. 

Without saying a word, Daniel placed a hand on Seongwu’s waist, while the other clasped Seongwu’s fingers into his. Daniel slowly stepped from one side to another, and Seongwu could only laugh as he tried his best to follow along. 

Their sad attempt at doing the waltz probably looked funny, but for Seongwu, it was perfect. It was just the two of them, dancing along to the music which could barely be heard inside that room, and yet Seongwu couldn't ask for anything else.

At that time, they’ve already been together for half a year. They kept their relationship a secret, because society was much harsher during those times. A relationship like theirs would instantly get them condemned, and people would view them with repugnance. 

Hiding their relationship was hard, but that was the only way for them to protect it. 

> _“Seongwu, did you know? Valse is the French term for waltz,”_
> 
> _Seongwu hummed as he rested his chin on Daniel’s shoulder. They continued to sway their bodies in tune with the music playing from the main hall. “Is that so?”_
> 
> _“Valse Sentimentale. Sentimental Waltz. It’s your favorite piano piece,”_
> 
> _Seongwu paused to look at Daniel. “Oh, it is.”_
> 
> _Daniel caressed Seongwu’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Why do you like that piece so much?”_
> 
> _“Hmm,” Seongwu thought for a while, then he smiled. “Probably because it’s intriguing? It’s clearly a sad, love song, but the melody holds some kind of mystery that I can’t figure out.”_
> 
> _Seongwu rested his hand atop Daniel’s, which was still on his face. “The first few notes are like whispers of love. It’s innocent and uncertain, but also hold some kind of excitement? After that, the feelings become more profound and expressive, like it can no longer hold back.”_
> 
> _Daniel nodded, enamored by Seongwu’s analogy._
> 
> _“And then there’s a sudden shift, and the notes begin to sound like a cry of despair,” Seongwu continued. “Along with the growing love came an indescribable fear and uncertainty. The notes shift again, this time into a lighter yet painfully sad melody, like the feeling of longing for someone. And not long after, the quiet longing turns into a shout of regret as the notes flow in heavy progression.”_
> 
> _Seongwu squeezed Daniel’s hand as he went into his final thoughts regarding the piece. “And then, just like that, it ends. A pure love that went into despair and tragedy, without a concrete ending. In a way, that piece is sad and mysterious. Listening to it makes you wonder if there’s a continuation, but that’s it.”_
> 
> _Daniel suddenly pulled Seongwu in a hug, which was easily reciprocated by the latter. “That’s probably because Tchaikovsky couldn’t hope for a good ending, knowing that the kind of love he sought for would only get him scrutinized. Despite that, he yearned for it."_
> 
> _“Like us?”_
> 
> _Daniel sighed against Seongwu’s neck. “Like us.”_
> 
> _“But our story wouldn’t end just like that, right?”_
> 
> _Daniel distanced himself for a bit so he could look at Seongwu. “Then…should I add variations to it and give it a happy ending?”_
> 
> _“Can you do that? Is that even allowed?”_
> 
> _“It’s quite common in contemporary composition,” Daniel laughed as he kissed Seongwu’s forehead. “I haven’t tried it, ‘cause I usually just follow the sheet music. But I might give it a try. For you.”_

_“Tch,_ what a liar,” Seongwu muttered, his grip on the fork going tighter. “Shouldn’t have said a bunch of bullshit if he couldn’t commit— huh? What is this?"

Seongwu’s grumbles were cut off by an unfamiliar melody floating in the air. The song should’ve ended by now. Seongwu would know because he’s more than familiar with that piece. 

_Valse Sentimentale_ should’ve ended after a stream of heavy notes, akin to despair. But after playing that part, Daniel’s fingers continued to ripple between the keys, shifting into a different rhythm. 

_Is this…a variation?_

Seongwu had always told Daniel that he found Valse Sentimentale a beautiful yet mysterious piece. The song shifts into various moods, and then it ends in such a tragic and abrupt manner. But with Daniel’s added variation, the melody reverts to a calmer rhythm. It doesn’t sound like sunshine and rainbows, but there was no anguish either. The notes which trickled like small raindrops sounded like whispers of what-ifs and never-ending apologies. 

Just as Seongwu was finally getting into it, Daniel’s fingers suddenly come to a stop, leaving Seongwu feeling frustrated because, despite the variation, the story still felt incomplete. 

So the moment Daniel walked to Seongwu’s table after his piano performance, the first thing Seongwu could utter was:

“That’s it?”

Daniel just laughed as he took the seat in front of Seongwu and called for a waiter to take his order. “Was it that obvious that I played a variation?

“Are you kidding? I’ve heard that piece hundreds of times already. I’d catch even the slightest note change,” Seongwu complained as he roughly sliced through the steak to the point where the knife clanked against the poor plate. “If you were going to add your own flair to it, at least finish what you’ve started. You said you would give it a happy ending but—”

It was too late when Seongwu realized he sounded like someone dwelling on the past, contrary to what he suggested to Daniel earlier in their room. Even though Seongwu stopped himself at the last minute, Daniel had already propped his elbows on the table, his chin resting on his hands. There was an amused grin on his face as he said, “I’m glad you still remember that.”

_Ah, this annoying son of a—_

“Remember what?” Seongwu asked as he fake-laughed. “My mind turns into a jumbled mess sometimes. Please forgive this senior citizen,”

Daniel snorted. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

Seongwu’s nostrils flared up, but he tried to compose himself and focus on his steak instead. Daniel’s order arrived not long after, then they both went on to eat in silence. 

The rest of the dinner went by peacefully. Neither of them uttered any words, but oddly enough, the atmosphere wasn’t awkward. Seongwu remembered how even spending a quiet day with Daniel before had always calmed him down. No words were needed; just Daniel's presence was enough. 

Seongwu stared blankly at his half-eaten steak at that recollection. 

_Damn, I’m thinking about the past again._

  
  


“So! A guide, huh? Is it fun?” Seongwu asked out of the blue, although it was half-curiosity and half an attempt to prevent himself from recollecting more memories. “How do you even become a guide here, anyway? And what’s up with having a part-time job in the afterlife?”

Daniel blinked at the barrage of questions, his cheeks puffing up from the food that he forgot to chew at Seongwu’s sudden inquiries. He quickly grabbed the glass of water from the table and took a few sips, the liquid helping him swallow his food down. 

“Well, being a guide?” he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and continued. “It’s interesting, I guess? You meet a variety of souls, some with unique personalities, and some who used to be famous when they were alive, among others.”

“So, how do you become one? Do you need to get chosen by the Higher Ups?”

Daniel paused, his expression unreadable. After a while, he gave out a vague smile. “It’s a choice that you must make. After 49 days, you need to decide whether you want to ride the train to your final destination, or whether you want to stay here.”

“If you choose to stay…” Daniel raised one of his hands and pointed at the unique bracelet on his wrist. The design looked similar to a smartwatch, and its screen displayed Daniel’s name, along with a few numbers. “…then you must work in order to pay for your living expenses. The in-between is constantly facing overcrowding problems, so for those who want to stay longer, they should work in order to pay for their stay.”

Daniel stretched his hand closer so Seongwu could look at his bracelet. “The tiny screen here automatically gets updated every week to add your hard-earned salary, minus your food, lodging, and entertainment expenses. Working as a guide is the best option, but some of us get part-time jobs so we could have more money on the side."

“Wow,” Seongwu was flabbergasted. “Even in the afterlife, humans still end up as victims of capitalism.”

Daniel laughed, his eyes forming crescents as he did so. Seongwu hated it, because it has always been one of his weaknesses. “That’s what we get for overstaying. Everything here is free for regular souls like you, so go ahead and enjoy the amenities to your heart’s content.”

“You bet I will,” Seongwu assured in a snarky way, all while making sure to avoid looking into Daniel’s smiley eyes. “Anyway, how do guides get assigned to souls? Is it random?”

“Pretty much,” Daniel replied as he leaned back on his seat. “We just check the notice board for assignments. We’re not allowed to choose who to guide.”

A certain someone suddenly popped up in Seongwu’s mind. Someone who passed away before him. He wondered if Daniel crossed paths with that person, but that probably wasn't the case because it was a long time ago and Daniel probably still wasn't in the afterlife back then. Still, he ended up asking without much thought: 

“Perhaps, at least twenty years ago, was there someone—”

“You mean your wife?” Daniel asked casually, surprising Seongwu. There was a soft smile on his face as he added, “I was her guide.”

It took Seongwu a few seconds to process that information, then he followed up with the first question that came to mind. “What form did she take?”

“Mid-30s,” Daniel responded, his expression remaining gentle, like he was talking about an old friend. “She said her happiest moment was when she gave birth to your son, because that’s when she felt that you’ve truly become a family.”

Seongwu bit his lower lip in contemplation. Back when his wife was about to give birth, he wasn’t even by her side to comfort and support her. He was on a business trip and only returned a few days after the delivery. Nevertheless, his wife smiled at him as she held their newborn son in her arms, welcoming him back from the trip. 

It was a marriage of convenience, but he still felt bad that he couldn’t love his wife back as much as she did. He treated her with the utmost care and respect, but both Seongwu and his wife knew that he'd always be stuck on his past relationship, no matter how many times he'd try to move on from it.

“That idiot,” he muttered with clenched fists. “She should’ve just reverted to the time before we met. Why would she choose _that_ as her happiest moment?”

“It wasn’t her choice,” Daniel rectified. “The depths of our souls determine our happiest moments, even if those moments are the ones we want to forget the most.”

When Seongwu looked up at Daniel, the first thing he noticed was his reflection on the latter’s eyes. Both of their physical forms were from forty years ago—the time when they loved too much, only to hurt just as much. 

_This place is much crueler than I thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was my own interpretation of Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale, which is one of my favorite classical pieces. I'm not an expert when it comes to classical music, so my interpretation is purely personal and might be different from others. If you have the time, do check out the piano solo performed by Lucas Debarge (coz I'm a noob who doesn't know how to hyperlink videos in the notes section) and come up with your own interpretation. Please do give it a listen. It's a beautifully haunting piece T-T 
> 
> More info about the guides (and the consequences they have to face while staying in the afterlife) will be revealed in the next chapter >_>


	3. what remains within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have passed since Seongwu had arrived in the afterlife, and he's slowly getting used to living with Daniel in the same room. He was able to evade any major confrontations by busying himself with afterlife matters. Soon enough, however, Seongwu realizes that his plans are slowly backfiring in the worst(?) way possible.

> _“Daniel, would you mind if I ask you a question?”_
> 
> _Daniel stopped on his tracks and turned to look back at Seongwu’s wife. As unusual as it was, the two of them actually became good friends in just a span of days. Of course, Daniel made sure not to give any hints that he and Seongwu were acquainted with each other._
> 
> _“You know I wouldn’t mind. Ask away,”_
> 
> _Seongwu’s wife clasped her hands behind her back and smiled._
> 
> _"Did you really love Seongwu?”_
> 
> _Daniel didn’t expect her to ask such a straightforward question, so he was thrown off by it for a second. Moreover, she asked in such a calm manner, as if she had already surmised the answer and only wanted a confirmation._
> 
> _“But if you really did, then why did you leave him?”_
> 
> _“What are you—Seongwu and I weren’t—” Daniel stammered as he tried to find the right words, but Seongwu’s wife only chuckled, amused at his reaction._
> 
> _“I saw you at our wedding,” she revealed, her expression serene._
> 
> _Daniel was dumbfounded. He only stopped by the wedding venue for a minute, since he just wanted to take a quick peek. He thought he was able to hide himself perfectly among the crowd. He even chose a good spot, one that was far away from the podium, but not too far for him to catch a glimpse of Seongwu. During that entire minute, his eyes were glued to Seongwu, who looked radiant in his tuxedo, with his hair pushed back, revealing the beautiful contours of his face._
> 
> _Perhaps, he was too focused on Seongwu that he failed to realize that the bride had already spotted him._
> 
> _“It may have been a marriage of convenience, but I truly did love Seongwu, so I observed him closer than anyone else. Through the years I’ve shared with him, I tried my best to read and understand him.”_
> 
> _Daniel didn’t say anything. He just stood there and listened as the wife continued._
> 
> _“It was only for a moment, but when I saw you, and when I noticed the way you gazed at Seongwu back then, it felt like the questions that lingered in my mind for so many years finally began to see some answers. That’s why even though many years have passed, I was still able to recognize you the moment you appeared as my guide,”_
> 
> _Before Daniel accepted the task to be her guide, he wondered if he should introduce himself as Seongwu’s old acquaintance, or if he should just hold his tongue and do his job as a guide._
> 
> _As he got to know more about Seongwu’s wife, he was moved by her sweet and kind disposition, so he ultimately decided not to say anything, because he didn’t want her to go through an emotional turmoil in the afterlife._
> 
> _Still, Daniel was glad that he was able to hear some stories about Seongwu through her. She talked about him a lot, and Daniel just listened to her stories without a word, afraid that he’d just end up saying comments that would sound too familiar, as if he’s more than a close friend of her husband._
> 
> _So Daniel was really careful, and he thought he wouldn’t get found out. Unexpectedly, Seongwu’s wife had already seen him before. And it was at her wedding, too. But even back then, he was being careful. He went just as fast as he came, all while making sure that he was blending in perfectly with the guests. Not even Seongwu was able to spot him._
> 
> _But just from a simple gaze, Seongwu’s wife was able to deduce Daniel’s significance in Seongwu’s life. Was it really obvious from his gaze?_
> 
> _“It’s not that you were being obvious about it. Your eyes back then looked desperate to hide your longing,” Seongwu’s wife remarked, as if she had just read Daniel’s mind. “But I was able to see through it. I guess you could call it a wife’s intuition?”_
> 
> _Daniel knew there was no point in denying anymore, so he just chuckled resignedly. “How?”_
> 
> _“Hmm…because you reminded me of Seongwu in a way? Your carefree nature makes the people around you feel comfortable and at ease, but there are times when your eyes look distant, like there’s an emptiness that can’t be filled by just anyone.”_
> 
> _“Seongwu’s just like that,” she continued. “He’s a good husband, an admirable father to his son, and a fun grandpa to his grandchildren. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. But whenever I’d see him spacing out as he’d gaze at our balcony, I couldn’t help but feel that there must’ve been something, or someone, in his life that could never be replaced by anything or anyone.”_
> 
> _“Really now,” Daniel gulped as he leaned against the wall in the corridor, because he’s already having a hard time steadying himself at that point. “He should’ve just let it go,”_
> 
> _Seongwu’s wife leaned on the wall in front of Daniel. “Well, he tried. Throughout our years together, there was not a single mention of your name. And he did his part as the head of our family, but despite focusing his attention on us, the small hints of distraction on his face didn't pass by my attentive eyes. A few years after our marriage, I got really curious, so I asked around regarding Seongwu’s past,”_
> 
> _“And? Did you find anything?”_
> 
> _She paused, then shook her head. “Nothing definitive, of that sort. All I found out was that he was in a relationship with someone back in college, but everyone kept saying it was just a phase in his life, and that it wasn’t worth mentioning.” She snorted at the memory, like she found it ridiculous. “Not worth mentioning, my foot. It was obviously the most noteworthy relationship in Seongwu’s life, even though everyone around him tried to erase it.”_
> 
> _Daniel wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but he smiled anyway._
> 
> _“I didn’t know you at that time, and only saw you from a distance, but I was sincerely hoping that Seongwu would meet you again.” Seongwu’s wife looked up at the ceiling, her lips curving up fondly. “He had lived his life for others, for his family, and not for himself. He really dedicated himself to his family and company, and that made him look commendable in the eyes of others. He seemed like a man with a high sense of responsibility.”_
> 
> _Daniel shrugged. “Maybe he just really has a high sense of responsibility.”_
> 
> _Seongwu’s wife looked back down and eyed Daniel. “You know the answer, Daniel.”_
> 
> _Of course he does. He knows it more than anyone, because he was also the same._
> 
> _Just like Seongwu, Daniel focused all his attention on other matters as a means of escape. It was the only way for him to run away from his memories of Seongwu._
> 
> _“For people like us who are faced with such tragedies, our only liberation is through death,” Daniel uttered with a sigh._
> 
> _“Seeing as you’re already here, I guess that statement’s kinda true, even though it’s grim. I think Seongwu can only be free once he passes on,” Seongwu’s wife added. “Even though he’s probably still waiting for you down there.”_
> 
> _She pushed herself away from the wall and took a step towards Daniel. “But you also stayed here instead of proceeding to the other side because you’re waiting for him, right?”_
> 
> _Instead of answering, Daniel just smiled. After observing him for a while, she stepped back with a contented expression on her face. “We did say ‘till death do us part’ in our vows, so I have no intention of waiting for him here, since death had already parted us. Getting reincarnated sounds like a good deal anyway.”_
> 
> _“Besides,” she continued, her expression turning somber this time. “I don’t have the tenacity to choose what you’ve chosen here in the afterlife.”_
> 
> _Daniel knew what she meant by that. She probably found out about a guide’s fate by asking around._
> 
> _Still, Daniel wasn’t worried about it. “It’s okay._
> 
> _Seongwu is worth it.”_

* * *

The smell of eggs and bacon wafting around the room woke Seongwu up from his slumber. With his eyes still closed, he wiggled out of his sheets and turned to the direction where the smell was coming from. He opened his eyes just in time to see Daniel in their room’s mini dining area, pouring some freshly brewed coffee into their cups. 

Daniel noticed he was already awake, so he stopped what he was doing and walked towards the bed. “Morning, Seongwu,” he greeted, his smile brighter than the early rays of the afterlife’s artificial sun. Seongwu thought he was gonna go blind. “Breakfast?”

Yesterday, it was strawberry pancakes. The day before that—hash browns and croissants. And the other day—toast and sausages. Seongwu ate a variety of food for breakfast every single day, and they were all served in bed by none other than his do-gooder roommate, Kang Daniel. 

It’s already been two weeks since Seongwu’s arrival in the afterlife, and so far, he was able to coexist in the same room with Daniel without any major problems. 

Seongwu figured that the key to avoiding those problems is to keep himself occupied with afterlife matters, such as, but not limited to: exploring the place with his guide, Kim Jaehwan, during the day and listening to his nonstop chatter (which Seongwu actually finds enjoyable by now because Jaehwan is a funny dude); booking a session with the Dream Coordinator, Bae Jinyoung, so he could visit his son and grandkids to assure them that he’s resting peacefully (in a luxurious hotel-like facility) and that they have nothing to worry about (but this special service can only be availed three times, so it should be used wisely); joining his fellow souls in group therapy sessions and open forums, where they get the chance to release their pent-up frustrations from when they were still alive; and others.

He didn’t expect the afterlife to be filled with many activities, but he was thankful since they gave him the distraction he needed. Seongwu wanted to avoid Daniel as much as possible, so he took part in as many activities as he could. 

But, given that they’re roommates, avoiding Daniel proved to be an impossible task. Even though he’s busy throughout the day, his mornings and evenings were still with Daniel. He’s the first one Seongwu sees when he wakes up, and the last one Seongwu sees before he goes to sleep. 

Because of that, Seongwu once blew off some steam during one of their group sessions, declaring that he’s going to file a complaint against the Higher Ups for retaining the souls’ physiological needs, especially the need for sleep. If only his afterlife body didn’t require sleep, then he’d have no reason to return to his room, where his roommate awaits. 

But his favorite counselor, Yoon Jisung, said that the Higher Ups have received complaints like that countless times already, and they always get dismissed because keeping the souls’ physiological needs would make them feel more alive during their stay. The Higher Ups even went as far as creating a faux sky in the afterlife, to maintain the concept of night and day. 

And so, despite the oddity of it all, Seongwu had no choice but to accept his living conditions. Granted, he was expecting to feel more dead than alive, because he is, in fact, _dead,_ but the situation isn’t unwelcomed, at least.

Because Seongwu had spent the last ten years of his life bedridden, mostly confined in the four corners of his huge hospital room. He’d been in and out of the hospital, had undergone strenuous chemotherapy and radiation therapy sessions, and even had a stem cell transplant. 

His leukemia had been put into complete remission after a few years of treatment. He was just on his way to recovery and was just starting to enjoy life again when, a few months later, he found out that his leukemia had relapsed. 

And thus, his bedridden days in the hospital resumed, although his condition only continued to get worse despite the treatments. Still, his son didn’t want to give up on the remaining parent he had, so Seongwu fought on despite the immense pain. 

Then, just as he was about to breathe his last, despite feeling guilty for causing such grief to his son, Seongwu couldn’t help but feel relieved. Finally, everything would come to an end. 

He could only say sorry as he held his son’s hands, the warmth slowly fading away from his own. As Seongwu’s life flashed before his eyes, the years flowing in reverse, a memory suddenly played in slow motion. 

He was a freshman in college back then. It was his first day and he was trying to find the Business Administration Department, but his bad sense of direction somehow brought him to the Practical Music Department. 

A gentle voice suddenly called out to him, and he turned to see a figure slowly approaching. Even though he couldn’t see the face clearly, Seongwu knew who it was. 

A lone tear rolled out from one of his closed eyes. He couldn’t stop it from falling, because even as he lay there dying, the last person that crossed his mind was _him._

And even though things didn’t end well between them, he still wished he could at least remember the face of the person he loved the most in that lifetime. 

  
  
  


“Seongwu?”

“Huh?” Seongwu flinched when he felt the tips of Daniel’s fingers on his arm. The latter quickly pulled his fingers away, although his eyes were still on Seongwu’s. They were sitting in front of each other around the small dining table, but Seongwu hadn’t even touched his food when his thoughts began to drift away earlier. 

“You’ve been spacing out for a while now,”

Seongwu looked up at Daniel to meet his gaze. For a while, he just stared at Daniel intently, scanning every single one of his features—from his eyes, nose, lips, up to the prominent mole on his cheek, just below his right eye. Seongwu could see his face clearly. It’s not the blurred silhouette that appeared during the last seconds of his life. It’s really Daniel, right in front of him. 

Seongwu felt like his heart suddenly got pricked by a needle. Strange emotions welled up inside him, so intense that Seongwu found it hard to pinpoint where they’re coming from, or what’s causing them. 

Two weeks of trying to pretend like everything is fine suddenly backfired. 

Because when the feeling suddenly hits you, it hits you hard like a violent, unstoppable wave. 

“Seongwu, what’s wrong?” Daniel reached out his hands again. He hesitated, then he eventually enveloped Seongwu’s trembling hands into his. Seongwu didn’t even notice that his hands were shaking, nor did he realize that tears were already streaming down his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

With the concerned tone in Daniel’s voice, along with the gentle way he caressed Seongwu’s hands, the strong waves came crashing down, washing him ashore along with his tangled emotions. 

Seongwu jumped up from his seat, toppling the chair over. He took deep breaths, then he slowly opened his mouth in an attempt to say something. He wanted to shout at Daniel and tell him to get lost, but he couldn’t. 

_I hate you._

His mind screamed, but his heart cried out something else. 

Because even though forty years was enough to wash away the resentment, it wasn't enough to wash away the feelings. Even though he tried to forget, his heart always remembered. 

Seongwu had always tried to paint it as hatred, but knew what remained within him all along was his deep-seated longing. 

_I missed you so much._

* * *

“I think old age has made me sentimental,” 

Jisung gawked at Seongwu in confusion. The counselor was giving a few instructions on what to do during his 49th day, but Seongwu wasn’t listening. 

Actually, he just barged into Jisung’s office without warning earlier, making an excuse about how he wanted some guidance and enlightenment, which is usually what the souls come to the office for. 

But in truth, he was running away from Daniel. 

Seongwu knew that Daniel could follow him anywhere, except the guidance counselor’s office which can only be strictly entered by one soul at a time. Jisung said he had imposed that rule after some souls caused a ruckus in his office a few decades ago. 

“Funny how you say that,” Jisung remarked. “When you look like that,”

“I know. It’s weird,” Seongwu breathed out. “But I’m telling you, I aged like fine wine. I still pretty much looked like this when I had my first grandchild. Well, cancer did take a toll on my body later on, but I was still—” 

“Ong Seongwu,” Jisung cut in as he leaned forward with his arms propped up on his desk. “What’s bothering you?”

Seongwu was quiet for a while, then he looked down and bit his lip. “If…there’s someone whom you’ve loved so much before—someone who left and never appeared in front of you again until your death—what would you do if you ever see that person again in the afterlife?”

_“Hm,_ I’m not sure,” Jisung said as he tapped his desk. “What did _you_ do after seeing Daniel again?”

Seongwu quickly looked up, surprised that Jisung knew. He never told anyone about his past relationship with Daniel, not even Jaehwan, even though Jaehwan probably had a hunch, too. “What, Kang Daniel? My roommate?”

“Yes, Kang Daniel, your roommate, who also happens to be your ex-lover whom you’ve missed dearly.” Jisung smiled. “I’m one of the admins here, Seongwu. I know everything about everyone,”

_“Tch,_ I should’ve known,” Seongwu grumbled. He sighed as he crossed his legs. “Well, that’s that. I guess I don’t have to summarize things for you.” He looked up at the ceiling and wondered out loud, “Why did that idiot remain here as a guide? He should’ve just gotten reincarnated. Does he refuse to let go of his previous life because of the fond memories? He must've lived a happy, carefree life after we broke up.”

“It’s quite the opposite,” Jisung corrected, making Seongwu look back down. “There were happy times, of course, but the last few years of his life were filled with so much pain and tragedy. Any sane person would quickly jump aboard the train to the other side so they could start anew, but Daniel chose to stay and live with those memories.”

Seongwu sat up straight, his heart slowly sinking as he asked, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t want to reveal one soul’s story to another, but just this one time, I want you to know what Daniel has been through, so you could at least understand him.”

Seongwu gulped as he braced himself for what’s about to come. “Please. Tell me everything.”

“Then, I’ll tell you about what happened after you broke up,” Jisung started. “And why Daniel chose to stay here in the afterlife 37 years ago.”

* * *

Seongwu ran without pause, bumping into a few souls as he made his way along the hallways. He couldn’t even bother to stop and apologize since his mind was focused on one thing.

_Daniel…_

He heard from Jaehwan that Daniel was doing his part-time job in the restaurant, playing piano for the souls who are taking their lunch, so he quickly made a run for it.

_Daniel…_

When he finally arrived at the restaurant. The wide hall was packed with souls as usual, but Seongwu couldn’t even see nor hear them. His eyes were fixated in one place, in one person.

Even Daniel’s piano playing, which Seongwu always loved to listen to, fell on deaf ears as Seongwu headed for the platform as fast as he could, ignoring the stares of the souls around.

He stood in front of the piano, tears welling on his eyes as he looked at Daniel. “You’re such an idiot,”

Daniel stood up, surprised, and at a loss for what he should do or say. “Seongwu, what happened?”

Seongwu stepped closer, then he suddenly grabbed Daniel’s hands. The sight of those beautiful hands made him cry harder. “It must have been hard,” he sniffed as he clasped those hands tight. “Why...just why did you choose to suffer alone?”

Daniel’s expression froze. He stumbled for a bit, like his knees were about to give out. He would’ve plopped back on his seat if not for Seongwu holding his hands.

Then...Seongwu heard a sniff, which turned into quiet sobs. He slowly looked up, only to feel a pang on his chest at the sight in front of him.

Daniel was crying. And he was crying so painfully, like a lost child.

It was the first time that Seongwu had ever seen Daniel cry. He never showed his tears, not even when they broke up.

Seongwu quickly wrapped his arms around Daniel, tucking the latter’s head on his shoulder as he soothed his back.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he's been there for 37 years ><  
> Take note that they got together when they were 21, then broke up when they were 25 (they're of the same age)  
> Seongwu got married when he was 27, and Daniel died when he was 28 (so roughly a year after Seongwu got married)
> 
> It took me a while to finish this chapter coz I added more scenes, particularly the one where Daniel was talking with Seongwu's wife, and the breakfast scene xD
> 
> FInal chapter's coming soon!


End file.
